Hope
by defaid
Summary: Pippin's family contemplate hope while he's away.


A/N: More flu-induced rambling. This is a prelude to the second chapter of 'Grown'.

These characters, events, etc. are not my imaginings (it's a word). I own nothing. Ain't it sad?

Reviews are nice. They might make me feel better.

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"You must accept it."

"What's done is done."

"You need to move on."

"You can't change things."

"Your son is gone, sir. Lost, maybe even dead. If he hasn't come back by now, he never will. Grieve for him and get on."

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Their words had cut Paladin down to the quick. He had left the hard but well-meaning advisors to do what they would and went straight to his wife. They had held out hope, they really had, but it wasn't enough to hope. Belief was needed, belief that he would come back to them, safe and whole, back to the warm protection of his family.

But belief had dissipated a long while ago, leaving them with empty fantasies and wishes with no meaning.

They held each other and wept; for their son, their nephew, for Frodo and his gardener; for the people who never got the chance to know them, for all that they had missed; for all the things that could have been, things that had been but were no more; for their loss, the piece of their hearts that they'd never get back.

Hope failed then.

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Pervinca couldn't believe it. What they had said to her father, such cold and harsh words to say to someone in his state of mind. Not only his state of mind, but hers, her mother's, her sisters' as well; they were all feeling it keenly.

They all got the same prickling, shuddering sensation, the kind you get when your hopes get higher and higher but your stomach flips and your skin feels tight because you know your hopes will be dashed within seconds. Every time the post arrived, every time they saw a distant rider making his way towards them, every time they sat down for a meal, they hoped he would appear. And it would just have been a bad joke and they would laugh and share some _real_ jokes and he would be forgiven for his little trick.

But all that might not happen. They were only hopes after all.

Maybe they _should_ start grieving him. They were right, he would have come back by now, or he would have sent word of where he was, how he was faring.

But they were still harsh words, true or not.

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You can't always trust to hope. She'd learnt that over and over in her life. But it was a comfort, when you had it. And she'd had it for a good time. But all things must come to an end eventually, including hope.

That and the lies she'd been telling her children. Pearl couldn't do that to them, to herself. Feeding them false reassurance and swallowing it herself as well, being happily oblivious until the inevitable, when she'd have to face up to her deception. When she'd have to tell them they'd never see Uncle Pippin again.

Then again, maybe hope wasn't such a bad thing to have at times like these. A day wouldn't go by without news of Sharkey's ruffians spreading throughout the Shire, always getting closer and closer to home. She knew her father had Great Smials well guarded, but it couldn't go on like this for much longer. The Thain would either cave in defeat and misery, or the men would back off. There was no doubt as to which would happen first.

Perhaps her brother would come back stronger and braver, and he would drive out the ruffians and Sharkey and that horrid Lotho, like he had in her stories.

No.

She had to stop it. Before she confused fantasy with the reality.

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She'd have to do more than her fair share, that was all there was for it. Pervinca didn't have the patience, Pearl was losing herself, and their parents had succumbed to their worry and fear.

Yes, she'd do all the hoping for them. Someone had to hope for Pippin's return. She knew that her family still hoped. They just didn't realise.

You can never lose hope, after all.


End file.
